Bloodbound Band Novels & Stories

And something in her gut something primal told her Kael wasn’t the only danger looming tonight. --- The chanting stopped. A hush fell over the clearing, sharp and sudden. The Blood Moon Binding was about to begin. Kael stepped forward, his long black coat brushing the grass. The crowd watched as he moved like he already owned the ground beneath him, like he already owned her. Lyra took a breath, steadying herself, lifting her chin so no one would see the crack in her resolve. The Elder of Stormfang, a withered wolf with scar-lined hands, began the ancient words that would bind Lyra to Kael not just in promise, but in blood, in soul, in pack magic.

Heart pounding against heart. The final charge was coming. And whatever happened next would either break them forever or bind them in ways neither could escape.

But as I closed my eyes, a distant sound pulled me back to reality. The clatter of armored boots echoed through the stone corridors, and I froze. Tristan’s troops were returning, but it was far too soon. My heart quickened with a mix of anticipation and dread. Could it be that they had found Fiona? A surge of emotions, both hope and despair, gripped my heart.

“The imprint's effect on the body's chemistry at a cellular level had already fundamentally changed the conditions. Standard pharmaceutical protocols would not work. The specific compounds required for a surgical intervention are incompatible with an imprinted system in a way that creates risks I would not be able to mitigate.” I sat across from her and listened to all of it. When she finished, she folded her hands again. "Pack law," she said. "Additionally. An Alpha heir carries specific protections under the bloodline statutes that supersede individual medical decisions." She held my gaze respectfully. "My hands are not my own in this, Elara. Neither are yours. I want you to understand tha

The creature’s head snapped sideways, but it didn’t fall — it shrieked, stumbling forward again. Noah froze. Mara screamed. I moved before I could think, my training taking over. “Get down!” I thrust my hand forward — instinct and fear colliding. The energy from the Sanctuary pulsed through me, a surge of green light crackling across my arm. “Verdant Bind!” The ground beneath the infected split open, and vines burst out, wrapping around its limbs like living ropes. It howled, thrashing, snapping the air with blackened teeth, but the vines held tight.

“You’re saying you can, what… speak to me through my mind?” “Technically, I should be able to," he explains. "But the ability is strongest among pack members, especially an Alpha and his betas.” “Which in your case,” Shane cuts in, “means from Dreadborn to you.” The realization of how deeply connected I am to Dreadborn—how bonded we are—it sends a wave of fear and anger spiraling through me. “Can it be stopped?” I ask, turning to all three of them. “This mind link… can I sever it?”

The farther I ran, the more I could feel it— Nyx. Not just alive, but waking up. Becoming something more than any of us ever guessed. I wondered if the bond had only been dormant. If the rejection hadn’t severed it, only muted it—because whatever slept inside her couldn’t be severed so easily. Moonbound. That word surfaced like a whisper in my mind. I’d heard it once in passing—in a record buried in my father’s archives. An ancient bloodline. Cursed. Hidden. Blessed. Hunted.

I’m the Convergence—bridge or ruin—and this sanctuary, glowing with hope, may yet be our tomb. The Veilbinders’ leader, Vael, steps from the shadows, her form cloaked in shadow-touched robes, her eyes glowing with psychic clarity, a seer scarred by the shadow-realm’s touch. Her voice is soft, resonant, cutting through the cave’s hum. “Convergence, your taint binds you to Voren’s relic. We can cleanse it, but the ritual demands a life—someone bound to your heart, willingly given.” Her gaze sweeps over my group, lingering on Cassia, and my claws prick my palms, silver blood welling.

Caden said, shocked, his eyes searched hers. Ragnar’s head whipped toward them, the tension in the room instantly thickening. But before anyone could speak, the healer stepped forward with urgency. “We don’t have time. We must perform the blood bind now if they’re to have any chance of survival.” Killian stepped in, his expression was pinched. “A blood bind?” he repeated, incredulous. “Can’t you see his condition? Alpha Thorne is not strong enough. He’s not even conscious.” The healer’s nostrils flared. “If Ember is to have any chance at survival, we must do it. He is an alpha. His body may be weak, but his bond is strong enough…”

“What prophecy? Why are you bowing to me?” The leader straightened, his expression kind yet serious. “We are the Bloodsmiths of Dreadfall Citadel,” he said, his voice filled with weight and purpose. “And we have awaited your arrival for centuries.”